Did You Love Me Only in My Head?
by hopelessromantic0707
Summary: "Dude, man up and help your girlfriend off the damn floor. Might want to take her to the hospital while you're at it." Sort of Puckleberry Finn.


A/N: Written for the drabble meme at Livejournal. I don't own Glee.

* * *

Rachel's walking down the hall after school, absent-mindedly twirling her field hockey stick (the rules of the game are easy and it looks good on college applications- something about strengthening leadership skills; surprisingly, she actually made JV) and humming 'Found Out About You'. For some reason, the song makes her think of Noah. She doesn't know why and she really doesn't want to question it (she's in a relationship with Finn, after all); it's just a fact.

The volume on her iPod is as high as it will go and, as she passes the door of the boys' locker room, she starts to sing in earnest, braids flying in her eyes, the stick in her hand becoming a makeshift microphone.

"Whispers at the bus stop. I heard about nights out in the schoolyard. I found out about you...found out about you."

Her head is throbbing and she's seeing stars and...wait a second...why is she on the floor?

The black spots at the edge of her vision start to clear and she can see Karofsky in front of her. He's most definitely saying something but she can't hear anything. Maybe the fall has caused permanent brain damage and she'll never hear again.

It takes her muddled senses a minute or so to register the music still coming through her earbuds (how had they stayed in while she was falling?); she takes them out in time for the idiot linebacker (is he a linebacker? She doesn't know) to sneer, "That'll teach you to keep your trap shut. Don't make my ears bleed ever again. Got it?"

He turns toward the locker room door. "Hudson, keep your girlfriend in check, loser. Next time will make being pushed into a locker look like nothing."

Finn just stands in the middle of the hallway, mouth open, confusion and anger flashing in his eyes. It's like he can't decide what to do or something. She can see his hands shaking, so she knows he wants to kick the guy's ass; his brain is having trouble moving past the rage.

The next thing she knows, Noah is on his knees beside her, moving the hair that's escaped her left braid off her face.

"I'm gonna borrow this really fast, ok?" he's saying, grabbing the wooden stick laying beside her. She's having trouble processing information at the moment; by the time she nods, Noah's running after Karofsky.

"Dude, man up and help your girlfriend off the damn floor. Might want to take her to the hospital while you're at it." This is yelled over his shoulder in Finn's direction.

The sound of his friend pushing open the front doors of the school, seems to break into Finn's stupor and he rushes over, wrapping his arm around her waist and hoisting her, gently, to her feet. She puts a hand to her head; he looks kind of scared as he helps her into his car and drives to the hospital.

She can't help but wonder what on earth Noah needed her field hockey stick for.

* * *

That question is answered the next day when he shows up at her house and holds it out to her.

"Here you go, rockstar. You kind of need this to play, right?"

She smiles. "Won't be playing for a while. Concussions are a liability. But thank you for bringing it back."

His body goes rigid and the muscles in his jaw clench. Is he really that angry about what happened?

"I'll be back to normal in a few days, Noah. It's fairly minor," she says, touching his elbow, trying her best to ignore the warm feeling coursing through her.

Finn. Finn. Finn.

She repeats the other boy's name, like a mantra, finally taking a deep, cleansing breath.

"So, what did you need my stick for?" Her attempt to change the subject is incredibly lame, but she's desperate here.

"Let's just say a concussion is the least of his problems."

"You beat him with it?"

"Prick deserved what he got...and then some. Don't worry. I cleaned the blood off."

"That's absolutely repulsive!" she screeches, wincing at the jolt of pain that shoots through her head.

He reaches out to run his finger over the crease between her eyebrows. The warm feeling returns.

"Do you want to come in? I'm just watching Felicity reruns. They're boring...and girly...and you probably won't want to..." Crap. She's all rambly and blushing.

His laugh isn't mean, just amused.

"You're the one with the head injury, Rach. I can suffer through a couple hours of lame TV."

As she steps aside to let him in, all she can think about is his smile.

She'll figure everything else out later.


End file.
